


K-I-S-S-I-N-G

by makemymillennium



Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Language, F/M, keatlejuice flavored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25728400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makemymillennium/pseuds/makemymillennium
Summary: How do you solve a problem like catching feelings for your rancid demonic bootycall?
Relationships: Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice) & Reader, Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Reader, Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/You
Comments: 11
Kudos: 88





	1. You kiss your mama with that mouth?

**Author's Note:**

> Having a sexual rediscovery of Beetlejuice in my adult life and feeling the need to write about it.

It had been an accident, summoning him. You’d come across the dingy bio-exorcist advertisement in the cluttered attic inherited from previous tenants and curiosity had gotten the best of you. 

You had even managed to pronounce his name correctly the first time around. Guess you couldn’t say those high school Latin classes never did anything for you. Now you had both an intimate knowledge of Roman aqueducts and a poltergeist. 

Eat your heart out, Cicero. 

Falling into bed with Beetlejuice? That had been a flight of fancy, really. You were no stranger to weird sex, but the filthy-suited pervert had sparked some kind of deep-seated kink you couldn’t explain to anyone if you tried.

You weren’t proud. In fact, you’d be the first to admit that you probably belonged in a padded room somewhere. That knowledge should have been enough to force your hand, to put an end to it, but- 

Turns out being gloriously fucked within an inch of your life is addictive. Guess the FDA doesn’t review that kind of thing.

All his bluster and bravado aside, it didn’t take long for you to figure out exactly what kinds of intimate activities landed squarely in Beetlejuice’s comfort zone. He liked to keep most of his clothes on, positioned behind you, tongue and teeth marking up the side of your neck and shoulders. 

He seemed happy, desperate even, to eat you out for hours on end, but never ventured north of your jaw line. 

You had been the one to initiate the first lip-lock, feeling emboldened after the second or third time he’d darkened your doorway. You gladly took the opportunity to quiet his incessant rambling, turning in his arms and planting one on ‘em. 

It was clear from the look on his face when you parted that you’d managed to shock him, a feat not to be taken lightly or without much (internal) gloating. 

“You kiss yer mama with that mouth?” 

Since then you celebrated more small victories. He’d really taken to having you ride him. You even managed to get him out of his clothes most of the time. And there was the added bonus of sloppy, biting kisses that alone made your skin burn and hot arousal pool between your legs. 

They weren’t frequent, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

You knew he liked it, despite the show he made of indulging you in the ‘girly’ practice. Necking, as he liked to call it. 

And if you noticed the way his body shuddered and his grip grew tighter when you moaned into his mouth or drew his bottom lip between your teeth, you never mentioned it. 

Tonight he’d arrived more amenable than usual, and you found yourself straddling him as he sat on the edge of the bed, tie loosened and buttons popped enough to get at the sensitive skin of his throat. 

As much as you enjoyed the challenge of leaving hickies on a dead guy, you'd quickly abandoned his neck in favor of his mouth. 

Rough hands gripped your ass, guiding your hips in a lazy rhythm against his clothed erection as your lips parted and tongues melded sumptuously together. 

It was the slow, intimate moments when you realized exactly how screwed you were. You really should have quit while you were ahead, back when the sex was mindblowingly, unequivocally meaningless. 

But, much to your chagrin, you liked him. Over the past few months he’d been spending more time hanging around outside of your recreational activities, turning up in different costumes, scaring your neighbors, drunkenly laughing with you at old horror movies until he inevitably fucked you senseless on the nearest flat surface. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought, lips curving upwards against his, an action that didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Somethin’ funny, dollface?” 

“Hmm?” You mumbled absently against him, more interested in getting his shirt open than anything coming out of his mouth. 

When he spoke again his voice was angrier than you’d ever heard it. “Don’t laugh at me.” 

You pulled back, brow furrowing in concern, a flutter of instinctual self-preservation making your voice weak. “Beej, I’m not-” 

He stood suddenly, knocking you flat on your ass. “Ow, what the hell?!” 

He straightened his tie, primly brushing at his sleeves. “I’m not in the mood. That time of the month, ya know?” 

Anger and embarrassment rose in your chest as you glared up at him. “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!” 

He flashed you a two fingered salute before disappearing from sight. “Later.” 

You clambered up from the floor, furious. 

He always did this, lashed out when he was on the back foot. And you always let him act as though nothing had happened when he showed up again a few days later. 

Well, not this time.


	2. Turnabout is Fair Play

By the time morning rolled around, you had a plan.

Was it a good plan? Hard to say. But it was _your_ plan.

You timed everything out for three days later. Unsurprisingly, Beetlejuice’s penchant for threes extended beyond his name. Whether it was conscious or not you still didn’t know, but you weren’t above using it to your advantage. 

On day one you hunted down the hottest, dumbest guy you could find in the grocery store. A few minutes of inane small talk over produce and you had secured a date. 

Day two you found a killer dress. A little more time consuming than your first task, but well worth the effort in the end.

By day three, all that was left was to set the stage. You took your time getting ready, dressing carefully, making sure not a hair was out of place. You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when the smell of stale cigarette smoke and sour earth wafted through your bedroom.

_Just like clockwork._

You rolled your eyes. He wasn’t nearly as unpredictable as he liked to think.

A cartoonish wolf whistle drew your gaze up to the mirror where you found Beetlejuice standing behind you, non-corporeal and leering. He leaned back to take a better look at your ass, smoothing down his tie. “For me? You shouldn’t have, doll.”

“I didn't.”

“What's got your panties in a twist?” He waved it off, quickly changing tactics. “Know what? Nevermind. Lemme hear them three magic words and daddy’ll sort it out for ya.”

You refocused on your own reflection and carefully applied your lipstick. “I can’t tonight. I have plans.” 

“ _Plans_?” he scoffed. “C’mon, what ladies night could be better than what I’m offerin’?” He grabbed a handful of his crotch for emphasis, brows waggling. 

You grimaced at the vulgar gesture, unwilling to acknowledge the small jolt of arousal that shot through you and settled at your core. You made a mental note to revisit those pages you’d bookmarked on Stockholm Syndrome.

“If you must know, I have a date.”

On cue, the doorbell rang. You capped the lipstick and threw it in your purse, quickly slipping on your heels. “I have to go. Feel free to hang around.”

Beetlejuice floated along behind you and when you opened the door you could feel the air around you grow chillier, despite the warm evening.

The guy- _James? Jake?_ \- greeted you with a smarmy smile. “You look amazing.”

After a few pleasantries he led you to his car, hand pressed to the small of your back. Before pulling away you peeked towards your house, just catching Beetlejuice’s dark form at the window.

The date? A dud. Not that you were expecting much, but god, you probably would have had a better conversation with a brick wall. And the kiss he planted on you at the end of the night did nothing to improve the situation. 

You had him drop you off down the street from your house. Only a few hours had passed and it was decidedly too early to make your entrance.

Was it pathetic to sit in a coffee shop for two hours on a Friday night avoiding your own home? Maybe.

Would it be worth it to make Beetlejuice’s mind run wild with all the things you could be doing? Absolutely.

When you decided enough time had passed, you made your way back, devious excitement building every step of the way. Once home, you dropped your keys in the entryway and kicked off your heels. The house was silent.

That dampened your mood. For a minute you thought maybe he’d left and that you’d suffered through the evening for nothing. Your pity party didn’t last long. A few steps further revealed Beetlejuice lounging on your bed. _Shoes on_ , you silently grieved for your clean comforter. He knew you hated that.

He barely looked up, picking at his nail. “How was your little, uh, _date_?” 

He was clearly annoyed. Good.

You moved to your vanity and started taking off your jewelry, “It was... _fun_. I mean, you saw him.”

Even with you back to him, you could hear the sneer in his voice. “You two go down to the soda fountain? Share a milkshake?”

You let your hair down and shook it out. “What year do you think it is?”

Whatever he was grumbling under his breath, you ignored it, focusing instead on unzipping your dress. You shimmied out of it, bending a little at the waist, feeling his burning gaze lock onto every inch of your skin as it was exposed to him.

Back still to him, you reached around to unhook your bra, sliding it off and dropping it to the floor. He groaned and when you looked over your shoulder you found him eyeing you hungrily, palming himself slowly through his slacks. 

For the second time that night you found yourself on the edge of throwing the plan out the window and riding him until your legs gave out. You didn't really need your pride, did you?

_Focus_.

You offered him a smile and crawled up the bed, settling on your back beside him. You couldn’t feel his touch, but the icy sensation of his presence looming over you caused your nipples to tighten into hard peaks. 

Beetlejuice licked his lips at the sight. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“I was thinking we could try something a little different tonight.”

Maintaining eye contact, you hooked your thumbs into your panties and slid them slowly down your legs, kicking the slip of lace to the floor. Your hands lazily drifted over your stomach, exploring the curves and dips of your body and up to your breasts. You wet your fingertips with your tongue and brought them down to circle your nipples.

“Oho, _fuck_ yeah, baby.” Beetlejuice spurred you on, eyes lighting up. “This what you do when I’m gone? Get yourself off thinkin’ about my cock?” 

You nodded up at him, biting your lower lip hard, afraid if you spoke you couldn’t stop yourself from summoning him. 

One hand continued working your breast as the other trailed down between your open thighs, fingers languidly rubbing your clit before swiping down and dragging along your entrance.

Beetlejuice growled at the sight of your wet pussy. Watching, he liked. Not being able to touch? Not so much. And being left to his own devices completely? You could see his patience quickly wearing thin. “C’mon, babe. Help a guy out.”

“You have a hand, don’t you?”

He caught the hard edge to your tone and eyed you suspiciously. “You ain’t still sore about the other night, are ya?”

“What would give you that idea?” 

He didn’t have time to answer before you slipped two fingers inside yourself, his name spilling from your lips in a breathy whine. “ _Beetlejuice_ ”

A shiver passed through him and he took your earlier suggestion, unzipping his pants and pulling out his hard cock, the tip swollen and glistening. He was already worked up from watching you play with yourself.

“Two more and I’ll give it to ya real good, just how you like it,” he babbled out, his fist stroking his cock tightly, taking the time to play with the head on each upwards stroke and precome freely leaking down his fingers.

The sight made your skin light up. You refocused on yourself, backing off when you got too close, edging yourself. Fingers thrust deep and quick inside your heat and tips dragged roughly against your inner walls. Slickness easily coated your digits, pooling down your inner thighs.

“ _B-Beetlejuice!_ ” 

You were so close, sweat beading on your brow and making your hair stick to your temples and forehead as you started to lose control of the motion of your hips.

Beetlejuice was thrumming with energy, riding the rail between your world and the next. When you met his gaze, the look in his deep golden eyes was absolutely feral.

“When I get my hands on you, I’m gonna spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a _week_.”

You shot him the most defiant look you could muster under the circumstances. “ _When_?” 

The sight of him jerking himself off combined with a well timed curl of your fingers tipped you over the edge and you came hard, back arching off the bed. “Bee-ah!” 

You milked your release for as long as you could. When the shaking finally subsided you relaxed back against the pillows, soaking in your post-orgasmic bliss and, less ideally, realizing just how spoiled you’d become. It was good, but not nearly as good as what you were used to now.

But there would be plenty of other nights for that. Tonight you were making a point. You grabbed a tissue off the nightstand to wipe your fingers before getting up to go to the bathroom.

“What’re you botherin’ with that for?” Beetlejuice called after you, confused. “Time for the main attraction!”

When you reappeared you leaned against the doorframe, cleaned up and in your nightdress. “I’m not in the mood. Maybe some other time.”

He snarled, obviously at the end of his rope with your teasing. “That’s all you got in ya, princess? One measly ol’ O?”

Before you could think it through you shot back at him, “Who says it’s my first of the night?”

Heavy silence hung between you and his anger faltered, just barely, but you could see that had thrown him.

In the blink of an eye he was gone.


	3. Fin

A full week later and Beetlejuice still hadn’t shown up.

Seven days. He had never left you undisturbed for seven days, not even when you tried to clean his suit, and now he had seemingly vanished without a trace. 

Well, you were pretty sure he was responsible for a broken vase in your kitchen, and possibly your DVR malfunctioning and erasing all your shows, but nothing you could pin on him beyond a reasonable doubt. 

_All of this over some offhanded comment about a guy?_

Had you done it to be petty? Of course. The whole night had been about getting a rise out of him. You knew he would be angry, hopefully jealous, but he had almost seemed...hurt? Leave it to him to turn this around and make _you_ the bad guy. 

You made your bed, now you had to lie in it. _Or bend over it, more likely_ , you thought, which is how you found yourself back at the mall picking out a pretty little getup that was sure to earn his forgiveness.

One thing was for sure: this whole situation had taken a bigger bite out of your bank account than you ever anticipated. 

Again you took your time getting ready, making sure everything was perfect before slipping into your ensemble and throwing your robe on over it.

You checked yourself over a few more times, stalling. Nerves fluttered in your stomach. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt _nervous_ summoning him. That had to say something about your sanity. 

Time to pull the bandaid off. You squeezed your eyes shut. 

“ _BeetlejuiceBeetlejuiceBeetlejuice!_ ” 

Silence. 

One eye peeked open. Nothing. No lights, no smoke show, no grave rising from the earth. The man liked to make an entrance. 

Maybe he wouldn’t come at all. Could he even do that? 

A gruff clearing of the throat made you jump and you whirled around to find Beetlejuice standing in the doorway, arms crossed tight over his chest and glowering at you. 

“ _What_?” 

Not an encouraging first sign. “So you’re still mad at me?” 

He mimicked your own voice from the other night back to you. “What would give you that idea?” 

You thought better of rolling your eyes. Maybe he just needed a distraction. You opened your robe, revealing a black lace lingerie set and striped garter belt hooked to sheer stockings. You slinked against the door frame in front of him, doing your best to look contrite. 

“Let me make it up to you.” 

He didn’t grab you immediately as expected. Instead he walked past you to sit on the edge of your bed, looking up at you with an expectant, almost disinterested expression. 

His sour attitude didn’t hide the hard on in his pants. He couldn’t be _that_ mad, right? 

You approached him, kicking his heels a little wider apart so you could stand between his legs and shrugged out of your robe. 

“I’m sorry for being such a brat the other night,” you simpered, loosening his tie and slowly pulling it from around his neck. “but I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” 

You planted a knee on either side of him to straddle his hips and sank down into his lap. You took your time as you started to undress him, running your hands up his chest and under his suit jacket, pushing it off his shoulders.

Popping the top few buttons of his shirt, you nosed at his jaw until he tipped his head back, allowing you access to the long column of his throat and latched on to one of the spots you knew he liked the best. 

You arched to press your breasts against him, grinding your hips down languidly into his erection and he finally moved beneath you. Cool hands ran over your body, one sneaking up to cradle the back of your head. 

Suddenly the hand in the back of your hair clenched into a fist, yanking you painfully off of his neck, making you squeal. “ _Ah_!” 

Your eyes slammed shut against the sting, heart pattering like a scared rabbit. You peeked at his face and then wished you hadn’t. The look in his eyes made you swallow hard.

_Dead girl walking._

He leaned close to growl dangerously in your ear. “Did you let that breather fuck you?” 

You opened your mouth to answer but gasped in pain when he tightened his grip further. “And don’t even _think_ about lyin’ to me.”

“N-No!” you quickly explained, hot tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “He kissed me, but nothing else happened.”

“Why not? Didn’t blow up yer skirt?” he mocked. “Sure were dressed like a little slut ready to spread ‘er legs when you left.”

“I never wanted him in the first place. I wanted-“ 

You stopped short, berating yourself for letting everything spill so easily. God forbid anyone ever trust you with classified information because you wouldn’t hold up for a second under duress. 

Beetlejuice was grinning wickedly. The proverbial cat that caught the canary if you’d ever seen one. “ _Who_?”

_Well_ , you figured, _no point in trying to save face now_. “You.” 

“That’s right, baby.” He loosened his grip on your hair, only giving you a moment to catch your breath before gripping your chin between his fingers. The look in his eyes had shifted. Now something wilder and more lustful lurked just beneath the surface. 

He rubbed his thumb over your lower lip. “Now get on your knees and make yourself useful.” 

You did as he asked, scrambling ungracefully to the floor between his legs. You wasted no time unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out. He was already flushed and leaking, and you couldn’t help stroking him a few times before getting to work. He should know by now this wasn’t much of a punishment, despite his best efforts. 

Beetlejuice grunted above you and snapped your bra strap painfully. “Lemme see yer tits.” 

You obediently unhooked your bra and tossed it aside. It wasn’t often your lingerie made it out of a night with him intact.

His hand threaded into your hair and tugged you forward impatiently. Settling between his thighs, you returned to the task at hand, peering up at him through your lashes and laving your tongue over his tip. He hummed his approval, watching you through hooded eyes as you took as much of him as you could and then pulled all the way off again with a wet _pop._

You swirled your tongue around his tip again and then began sliding your mouth up and down his shaft, working from the base with your hand. You let him roll his hips beneath you and quickened your pace to match his. 

Beetlejuice stood suddenly, holding the back of your head in a vice-like grip as he began fucking into your mouth in earnest. You clung to his thighs, trying your best to relax and take him in your throat without gagging. 

“’s what that _boy_ wanted to do to ya. Could see it written all over his face,” he babbled above you. “Knew how pretty you’d look choking on his cock.” 

He pushed all the way till your nose was pressed up against his pubic bone and held you there.

“Swallow,” he ordered. 

You obeyed and felt his whole body shudder at the sensation of your throat squeezing him. 

“Again.” 

You repeated the action several times before he pulled out of your mouth completely, leaving you gasping for air. 

Before you had the chance to speak Beetlejuice dragged you off the floor and backed you into the wall. His mouth met yours with bruising force, all tongue and sharp teeth. There was no warmth in his touch as his hands pawed at your body, but god was it _good._

His hands twisted in the delicate fabric of your garter belt and with a sharp tug he ripped the garment in half. You silently mourned as the tattered remains fell from your body. 

Desperate to wipe that self congratulatory smirk off his face, you mirrored his action, gripping his button down and tearing it open. Buttons clattered noisily to the floor followed swiftly by the rest of his shirt. 

Beetlejuice buried his face in your neck, leaving a trail of stinging, discolored marks over your skin and your nails raked down his back in retaliation, pulling a deep growl from low in his chest.

He squeezed one breast hard while his mouth moved to the other, pulling your nipple between his teeth and tugging sharply at the tender flesh. 

You hissed in pain, reprimanding him with a hard yank at his hair. Pulling you away from the wall, he covered your mouth with his again and backed you towards your desk.

Beetlejuice whirled you around when your legs met wood, swiping his arm across the surface and sending the contents crashing to the floor.

You bucked him off and turned in his arms to face him again but in a flash he had you back where he wanted you, bending you at the waist and slamming your upper half down onto the hard table. 

One hand pressed between your shoulder blades, pinning you in place. Beetlejuice leaned down just long enough to snarl in your ear. “If yer gonna act like a whore I’m gonna fuck ya like one.”

You yelped when he sank his teeth into your shoulder, squirming futilely beneath him. He used his free hand to pull your panties down around your knees.

“Spread ‘em,” His tone left no room for argument and you obeyed, sliding your feet apart until the fabric pulled taut.

A visible shiver passed through you at the soft, shuffling sound of his pants coming off, and moments later he was pressing into you, giving you no time to adjust before setting a brutal pace.

You winced at the burning stretch, clawing uselessly at the polished wood beneath you for purchase. The sound of skin on skin where his hips snapped against your ass filled the room as he pounded into you mercilessly.

“That’s it,” he praised you smugly. He could feel your walls already beginning to flutter around him. “Like that dontcha?”

You moaned uncontrollably in response, glad you couldn’t see the look of arrogant satisfaction you were willing to bet he was wearing. 

Beetlejuice’s bruising grip on your hips tightened. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Y-Yours,” you mumbled under your breath. 

You shrieked as he brought his hand down to lay a stinging smack against your ass. “I didn’t quite catch that, dollface.”

“Yours, Beej! Only you!” 

“Got that right. No human is ever gonna fuck ya like I do.” 

“S-So close,” you managed to gasp, barely able to hear yourself over the pounding of your own pulse.

A devilish chuckle filled your ears. “What makes you think I’m gonna let you come?”

You let out a miserable whine. Of course he wasn’t going to make this easy for you.

“Be a good girl for daddy and beg for it,” he demanded, breath harsh and labored against your skin. 

Were you really going to give into him just like that? After the week you had? You steeled your resolve. “I’m not begging.”

Beetlejuice didn’t seem surprised at your refusal. If you didn’t know better, you would say he was enjoying it. “Have it your way.”

He pulled you up by the hair, one arm retaining it’s steel-like grasp around your waist while his free hand gripped the front of your neck. The new angle and his dominating hold on you had you quickly spiraling towards your orgasm.

He angled in to hit just the right spot over and over. His fingers rubbed your clit, sliding messily over your soaked mound. You should have been coming easily at that point, but you couldn’t seem to get there. 

You felt his lips curl up into a smirk against you skin and you knew this was his doing. Somehow he was holding you back from finishing, leaving you teetering at the precipice without letting you fall. 

“Please,” you finally broke as your arousal became painful, your body worked beyond its breaking point and desperate for release.

“Please, _who?”_ The pressure of his hand on your throat increased until black spots started to cloud your vision. _“_ Ya know what I wanna hear, babe.” 

“Daddy, please! _Please_ let me come!”

“That’s more like it.” 

He broke whatever hold he had over you and the coil in your belly snapped, sending you head first into an earth-shattering orgasm. Your body convulsed violently against his, head falling back against his shoulder and mouth opening in a silent scream. 

He fucked you through it, never slowing his pace before suddenly pulling out and flipping you over. He pinned you down against the table with one hand and pumped his slick cock with the other. Still in a daze, you watched as he worked himself and after a few more strokes he followed you over the edge.

Beetlejuice let out a deep, animalistic growl, ropes of come coating your stomach and breasts. When he’d finished he reached out to run his fingers through his release, rubbing them over your lips and pushing into your mouth.

“Y/N,” he groaned as he watched you eagerly lap and suckle at his fingers. “So good for me.” 

After taking a minute to recover he pulled you off the table and into his arms, his expression softening a little, scanning you over. His thumb ghosted across the bite mark he’d left on your shoulder. “I didn’t...didn’t hurt ya, did I, dollface?”

“Only in the good way,” you managed, shaking your head. “We should fight more often.”

With a snap of his fingers you were both cleaned up and in bed. You glared up at him. “You’ve been able to do that this whole time?!” 

His head fell back with a cackle, “What? I like ya sticky.”

You reached across him to pull a silver case out of the night stand, popped it open and took out a cigarette, placing it between his lips and lighting it.

You settled down and laid your head on his chest, stroking the mossy dusting of hair. “I wasn’t laughing at you the other night,” you explained softly. 

“You don’t gotta-” 

“I want to,” you cut him off. “I was smiling because I like you and I like kissing you, okay? Deal with it.” 

He took a long drag, blowing smoke into the air and twirling your hair around his fingers. You had almost drifted off when his voice broke the quiet.

“I’m gonna need this thing to be... _exclusive_.” 

Well that was certainly unexpected. He had always avoided anything approaching even a suggestion of commitment. You turned your head up to look at him, resting your chin against his shoulder. You considered your words carefully before responding.

“That goes both ways, you know. Netherworld included.”

He peered at you from the corner of his eye and nodded, grumbling something affirmative. That was the best you were going to get for now.

“Will you stay tonight?” He almost always spent the night these days anyway, but better to stroke his ego a little and let him act like he was doing you a favor. 

“Fine.” 

You reached up to his cheek, angling his face down and kissing him softly. Your lips curled up at the edges involuntarily and he groaned. “ _Now_ what’re you smilin’ about?” 

You couldn’t help but tease a little. Not when you had him all _soft_. 

“You like me.”

Beetlejuice took another drag and blew the smoke in your face.

“Hey!”

“ _Pain in my ass_ ,” he grumbled beneath his breath. “Go to sleep before I change my mind.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to finishing this up. Thanks so much to everyone who read and commented!


End file.
